Rebirth
by Hikasne
Summary: Either way, tonight, he wins. He always wins.' Zuko/Katara, lime, oneshot.


**Rebirth**

_Disclaimer: Nope…I am neither the owner nor the creator of the Avatar._

_**Title**__: Rebirth_

_**Author**__: Moonlight's Ally_

_**Pairing:**__ Zuko/Katara_

_**Genre**__: Romance_

_**Summary**__: 'Either way, tonight, he wins. He always wins.' Zuko/Katara, lime, oneshot._

_**Rating**__: M for almost-lemon._

_Note: Normally I am not a fan of the Avatar, but this pairing struck me. As for the last line and the quote for the summary, it means by him 'winning' as either finding out the location of the Avatar or winning Katara over. Either way, he wins. ;) Short, I understand. You know what to do when you're done._

She was trapped, pinned against the headboard with her back pressed to the pillow. Her legs dangled uselessly ahead of her, completely lacking in purpose. Her mind was blank. Her mocha skin was leached white in the moonlight, one hand resting on top of her dark hair, tangled with sweat. The other was crossed across her body, some measure of protection, of cover against the embarrassment of being seen, completely naked, in front of the prince.

Her gaze shifted to the open window. She needed a distraction, an anything, to keep her mind from thinking about the position she was in.

But it was impossible. Impossible to ignore and impossible to hate. She could sense the distinct feeling of someone's mouth at her neck, two knees on either side of her legs, warm breath coming along her skin and raising goosebumps, teeth gently grazing at her collarbone, competent fingers chasing shadows across her body. And—this was the most impossible—the hardness brushing her stomach and waist.

His elbows locked her into place, resting on both sides of her neck, immobilizing her. He was so confident in himself, assured he was doing the right thing. His body, arcing over hers in such a way so as to give her shivers. His warm fingers touching her, every part of her: feverish, tracing her flesh, tracing her sides, leaving no questions about her unanswered, resting each finger on every dent of her ribs so as to make her quake inside.

Slowly, his mouth froze on her neck, but only momentarily. His lips, so gently, brushed her skin, her jawline and her cheek. His nose drawing a line from the side of her jaw to her ear.

When he spoke, his voice was light, conversational, as if they were talking about the weather. His breathing was uneven. "Where is the Avatar?" he asked, softly.

"I'll never tell," she vowed in a voice that matched his. Her breath was fast, fast, fast, her heartbeat running along with it.

"Then I continue," he replied, and he moved one of his hands to cover her chest, to follow the line from the inner jutting of her collarbone to the space between her breasts. He placed his outstretched palm there. His breathing was absurdly clear in her ear, telling how much he wanted this. His lips dropped from her ear to her mouth, hungrily taking her lips in his, demanding a reaction from her, forcing her to kiss back.

She obliged willingly enough, her heart hammering beneath his hand, feeling his erection against her abdomen, was almost too much for her to take. Her lips responded in a new way, one unfamiliar to her.

He broke away after a minute. She was panting, her fingers twining into her hair loose on the pillow.

"I'll ask," he repeated. "Where is the Avatar?" His hand covered one of her breasts and he pressed down with slight force, moving his hand and sending waves of pleasure through her. Her lips parted and she was powerless against letting go an erotic moan.

"I won't," she said again, her chest heaving, heart sporadic, eyes unblinking, voice caught in her throat. "If…if you make love to me, it means nothing. You don't know how to love." She let her head rest on the headboard, closing her eyes and practicing being able to breathe normally.

He did not seem surprised or irritated by this response. He lifted his free hand to her forehead, pushing back her damp hair, and then intertwined their fingers together. He pushed her against the pillow. "I want…" his voice was faint, not nearly as confident as before. "I wanted to...tell you…"

"Tell me what?" she tried, but her voice broke on 'me'.

"Tell you…" He leaned down and took her lips to his, running his fingers all over her skin, taking her hips and pulling them to his so that his erection could touch the inside of her legs. His expression was pleading, almost. "You…don't know…about me. No matter how I seem. I know how to love. And I know…what I …can feel, though I don't seem so. I know…what I feel for you." His breathing was absurdly labored now, hot against her ear, heavy and ragged. Each sentence was punctuated with him kissing another part of her: the space between her breasts, her neck, her hip, behind her ear, on the inside of each thigh, on the clear expanse of her stomach. She was reborn. It was like nothing she had ever felt.

She stared past him a moment, however, taking in the sight of his tangled hair and the side of his neck, his ear. "I don't believe you," she finally answered, entwining her fingers into his hair.

His eyes were serious as they bore into her, and his hands were everywhere, his mouth exploring her. "Then I'll have to show you."

--

Either way, tonight, he wins. He always wins.


End file.
